Mid to Late Pregnancy

25 weeks pregnant. Feeling great! Still doing Chalean Extreme, and venturing into veganism. 

26 weeks. Virtually no pregnancy cravings, no weight gain, no difficulty with my workouts, and lots of energy. Before you put a hex on me, rest assured my first pregnancy was absolutely atrocious. 

27 weeks. Not the most flattering photo, but Reese and I were lounging around. This is when my guilt about her not being my only baby kicked in. My mom says it's normal ;)

28 weeks. Really popping out! Although not NEARLY as much as I did with Reese, and NO SWELLING this time! The nurse assures me I still have time to turn into a pufferfish, but I refuse to believe her. 

29 weeks. No complaints. This little lovey keeps me way too busy to remember that I'm pregnant most of the time. 

30 weeks. The belly button (or in Reese-speak, "bully-butty") is popping out. It didn't with Reese even though I was 800 times bigger than this. I hope this little boy has the same serene personality on the OUTSIDE. 

31.5 weeks. Still going strong. Starting my Beachbody business, working full time at the newspaper, keeping up with Reese, finishing novel revisions, still taking my workout time (I need it!) and attempting to keep a semi-inhabitable home are giving me a run for my money.

Hence, the weekly photos sort of stopped. 

Weeks bled into weeks, and when people asked how far along I was I didn't even know.

I will take this as a blessing.

With Reese, I was counting every single second. (And she was still--fashionably--late.)

Family photo before Ben's 10 year high school reunion. 32-ish weeks, maybe? I don't know, it's all a blur. I wore heels without pitting edema. 

37 weeks already! Only within the last two weeks have things been getting icky, and I am sure most of it is self-induced. I've taken on a lot in the last two months, and the fatigue has officially begun. I stopped my hardcore exercise at about 35-ish weeks--because (holy hell!) I am already dilating, and unlike last time, I am NOT exactly hoping for an early baby. 

Hip pain? Check.

Pelvic pain? Check-check.

Back pain? Check.

Cramps? Check.

Headaches? Occasional check.

Contractions? Hell yes check.

Life is good. I'm thrilled to meet my baby boy and begin a new and improved life. 

It feels strange to know that when he arrives, my time at the paper will be at its end, and I will once again be a college student (at 27!). I look forward to diving headfirst into learning about business, and starting a new little career in fitness, and doing something with that damn novel. My husband is hella nervous, and rightfully so, but I have learned after too many times of NOT LISTENING to it that my GUT is always right. And that (big baby-bellied) gut is telling me that the time to live is NOW. 

Lindsey.

Dream-doubting. Hit your bottom already, so you can climb.

A few months ago, my sister and I sat at my kitchen table and talked about nutritional yeast and her college mission trips and my unconfirmed decisions about what to do once baby number two arrived. I felt that I wanted to go back to school. Contrary to my earlier existence as a free spirit, I discovered in recent years a penchant for business and development. The idea of making the leap from one kid plus full time job to two kids plus full time school plus somehow contributing financially to my family was still in an embryonic stage.

Dana is eight years younger than me, but there is something about being nineteen that makes one wise. I weighed the options of staying at my locationally convenient, camraderie-filled, low-paying job. It was, after all, something safe...except it wasn't because I couldn't afford a babysitter for one child, and more frequent emergencies were bound to emerge with two. Dana said something along the lines of,"You're scrappy. You always make things work. So if you take a leap of faith, you'll make things work. And if you play it safe, you'll stay where you are." Which is in dream mode: of continuing my education, publishing my novel, starting a fitness business, changing the world. Changing the world is hard to do from a desk.

So I read and researched and made lists and had one-sided conversations with my skeptical husband who nonetheless supports my lofty goals. He knows I am a worker bee when I'm passionate about something, and that seems to be the point: living with passion. What the hell else is there? Submission is pure torture for me and I refuse to play it safe anymore for the sake of false comfort.

I put in my notice. It wasn't easy. I like my coworkers. I am used to my routin. But I LOVE my role as a mom and I love learning and I love fitness and I love writing. And I think it's bullshit to tell your kids to reach for their dreams when you've spent all your precious time taking cover from your own.

Change is scary. If it weren't, nobody would stay stuck the way most of us do. I am pledging here and now, for Ben and Reese and Declan and myself and the world, that I will live with purpose. The only chance I will ever regret is the one I didn't take.

Dana, you're right. When you just jump, you have no choice but to learn to fly.

Between Me An'Jello: Baby wipes

ATTENTION INDIE PARENTS: My friend Holland recently posted a recipe for homemade baby wipes! Genius & cheap. I will definitely try this one; check it out :)

Between Me An'Jello: Baby wipes

Pregnancy Weeks 19-21

Okay. NOW I'm starting to feel it! I remember my second trimester with Reese being the only comfortable one of the three; I had energy galore, the headaches let up, and my belly wasn't yet back-breaking.

This little boy (yes, BOY!) has different ideas from his sister. He's more chillaxed in his uterine home, and hopefully will be on the outside, too. And it took a little longer for him to make his little momma obviously pregnant, unlike Reese who bulged out of me as soon as the test dried. But all of the sudden, although I am in general smaller and weigh less than with Reese, my belly is HUGE and ROUND and HARD. A bowling ball of epic proportions! And oh, the heartburn. And oh, the sore ankles. And oh, the sloooooooow digestive system that renders me simultaneously famished and unable to eat without feeling like a hippo.

Also...truth be told, we were hoping for a boy. You know: one girl, one boy, done. But both of us were a little shocked when we saw that brazen little dingaling on the 3D ultrasound. Reese babbled next to me and yelled, "Bay-bay! Bay-bay!" And I realized I had really subconsciously believed she'd be a sister to a sister. And quite frankly, I'm a little freaked out that there's something with a penis growing inside of me! It makes me giggle, and then I think of him peeing all over me when I change his diaper, and the fact that he'll need to be circumcised. And that I've changed a mere TWO boy diapers in my life, both on ONE occasion. Not to mention I don't like sports. I don't like boy stuff. I don't like boy clothes. Can he be a ballerino? (Something tells me Ben will object.)

I know it will be fine.

But...eeeeeeeek!

My weight: it's been on the incline. Damn it. Between weeks 17 and 21 I gained four-ish pounds. (I say "ish" because my weight on my own scale in the morning sans clothes is different from my weight at 4 in the afternoon at the doctor's office--where I SWEAR the nurses take great pleasure in sliding that tiny metal bar just a liiiiittle to the heavy side--with a dress and a necklace and ten bracelets and earrings and sandals and hairspray.)

My cravings: ICED TEA! Lots of unsweetened Earl Grey and Tazo green tea. I make a big pitcher every day. And that delicious frozen winter squash from Cascadian Farms, over any kind of whole wheat pasta. And kale, lightly sauteed with red pepper flakes. So, nothing crazy and nothing unhealthy. Yet.

My workouts: I have been doing the PUSH phase of Chalene Extreme. That's heavy lifting 3 days a week, but I only go up to ten pounds now that I have an altered center of gravity, and right now ten pounds in each hand feels heavy. The rest of the day, I just lift a 22 pound weight called Reese. I also try to get in varied forms of cardio: long walks, short low-impact (as of this week) HIIT workouts, and some low-weight intervals. I find that even though I aim for 5 good workouts a week, I've been doing 3 days on/3 days off. I just get so tired, and even though I like to push myself, I know overdoing it would NOT be good, since not only am I carrying a child in my body, I'm carrying around a one year old outside my body.

My overall wellbeing: I just want to cry. About everything. Everyone makes me mad. I don't want to hear even their mild comments, and I'm bracing myself for the extraordinarily rude ones to come (i.g., "Looks like someone's been eating a lot of fast food lately!") Let me tell you...I'm not one to hold back, and this time, WATCH OUT. Something about it being my last pregnancy really gives me license to unleash holy terror on all the unassuming morons with their cutesy, disgusting commentary about my stomach or my choice of names or what I eat. With Reese, I feel like I tried way too hard to just be nice.

Other stuff: I don't think this child will have a name. Boy names are hard :/

Lindsey.

Pregnancy Weeks 16-18

Holy headache. I planned to post something crafty today, but I am experiencing one heck of a lingering headache annnnd forgot to pick up my Fioricet Friday when my script ran out. I swear this time that medicine is the only thing keeping me alive. With Reese, I did physical therapy/mechanical traction/chiropractic. It helped, but took months and money-money-money. Today reminds me of all the agony I endured a year ago. Well worth it in the end, as everyone says, but DANG! when you're in the middle of  it, the race seems endless. Thank God Reese was an angel today, and super-sleepy. I think she's going through a growth spurt.

What's bugging me right now is that I wanted to do a tough workout/work on revising my novel/bind a journal/write in my other journal/post a tutorial. And Reese went to bed early, giving me the perfect opportunity to do all of these things, in breezy 80 degree perfection nonetheless. But instead, I feel incredibly barfy and just need (not want, NEED) to lie down.

So, here are some belly pics. No weird cravings. No real discomfort, aside from my usually-taken-care-of headaches. No notable fatigue. I've been doing HIIT workouts with slight modifications, and strength training with heavy-ish weights (though not as heavy as I would normally do), and of course walking with the stroller along the same six streets. Baby's heartbeat is on the low end of normal and "boyish," according to the doctor. And altogether I've gained about 7 pounds (with Reese I'd gained about 15 by now--eek).

Something I'm interested in: other moms' thoughts on the occasional glass of wine/glass of beer during pregnancy. In both pregnancies, I sometimes have had a glass of red wine with dinner, and personally, I am totally comfortable with it. Here is an interesting study:

http://news.discovery.com/human/alcohol-drinking-pregnant-women.html

I recall a couple of years ago seeing a pregnant woman that I knew out enjoying one glass of white wine with her dinner, and I was shocked. I'd always thought it was totally off-limits. Well, the woman is a nurse, and upon talking with her and other moms, and doing my own research, I've come to the conclusion that one drink is fine, and something that I enjoy every once in a while so that I don't feel totally insane and deprived for 40 weeks. Of course, my belief is that it's the choice of the woman whether she feels it's okay for her body or not. And obviously, binge drinking while pregnant is ridiculous. 

Although I indulge in a bit of vino at home, I do feel apprehensive ordering a glass in a restaurant when I'm visibly pregnant. I need to get over this. In my first pregnancy, I listened to all the judgey people with views on not only alcohol, but exercising while pregnant (I did, and will continue to), being a vegetarian while pregnant (I am so conscious of my health and my protein intake, and am happy to say I am just FINE and Reese is thriving--and eats meat), and especially BREAST FEEDING (I tried to, and Reese and I both had many problems, so we stopped. She did fine on Enfamil. I also made most of her baby food, and am very conscious about giving her organic, hormone-free foods whenever possible. I've seen many women preach the nonnegotiable benefits of breast milk, then give their child strictly cheap jarred baby food, then eventually fast food on a regular basis once the child can eat solids. Hello.) This pregnancy I am more confident in my ability to make my own decisions as a parent, and will be telling the hospital staff to keep the nazi lactation consultants outta my $1000/night room. (No, not all lactation consultants are nazis, but the ones who barged in and harped on us last June certainly were skilled at making my lack of milk production feel like a personal flaw.) 

Anyway, I'm getting off my soap box to get my cold compress out of the freezer. 

Thoughts?

lindsey.

Pregnancy: Weeks 13-15

I'm praising God that this pregnancy is at least a gazillion times easier than my last, since I've got a busy 11 month old sucking the life force from me. Actually, I think part of the reason I find it easier this time around is that I'm too occupied to feel sorry for myself and my headaches (this time I have a prescription instead of physical therapy) and my widening hips (I'm doing a little better weight-wise than I did with Reese) and my limited social life (I'm used to it by now).




(There's little Reese! The best reason for being a busy bee.)

(13 weeks.)----------------------------------------------->


It's an ideal time of year to be pregnant. Hello, sundresses and a sunkissed glow!

I think I felt the baby move twice yesterday and once today. I think it's a he. We'll see. I'm a little more patient than last time about finding out. I'm too busy to spend hours daydreaming about baby stuff; plus, I've already GOT a baby. (Never in a million years did I think we would have two kids so close together, but sometimes there are problems with prescription coverage and sometimes there are romantic vacations and sometimes there are sexy posh hotel rooms in downtown Cleveland and sometimes there are too many room-serviced Knob Creek & Diets, and...well.)

(14.5 weeks)--------------------->

<--(15 weeks. At right, Little Honey standing dangerously in her high chair.  You can see the sunkissed Pebbles-style pony. )

Craving-wise, I'm super hungry during the day and not so much at night--but not for really bad stuff. I could survive on avocados and olive oil and blueberries, but today I DID have a hankering for an Oreo McFlurry and I DID let myself have it, and I was glad the girl at McDonald's really skimped on the amount of ice cream in the cup because I DIDN'T need it. I am usually really good at preparing my meals and snacks in advance and bringing them pre-portioned to work. I don't always get to leave at the same time for lunch, or sometimes even at all, and even in my not-pregnant life I'm an eat-every-three-hours kinda girl, so I've found this works best for me. Once my blood sugar drops, I'm eyeing the fundraiser candy bars on the front counter; to combat this, I MUST have a complex carb/lean protein combo in the right calorie ratio for the time of day. I told myself I'd stick with this lifestyle during pregnancy, but to be honest it's just not as easy as it normally is. I turn my nose up at foods I usually love (like wheat berries and chickpeas), and crave things I normally can take or leave, and am hungry at different times of the day, etc. So I'm just trying to be patient with myself and do the best I can.

 I did P90X2 and Turbo Fire Advanced during my first trimester and only gained two pounds, but the last couple of weeks I've been much more fatigued (total reversal of my pregnancy with Reese!) and have settled for a long walk with Reese most days, plus a short strength training workout when I can muster it, which usually is 3-4 days a week. I WANT to do more, and I'm struggling with the sudden pregnant belly emerging from what two months ago were the solid abs of HARD work after giving birth last June. But I have to "listen to my body," as they say. I'm not giving myself license to be a pig or to sit around and bemoan my fat knocked-up ass, but I do need to occasionally honor the need for a catnap...or an ice cream cone.

(15 weeks, with my 11 month old baby girl! Am I crazy or what?)

lindsey.

my (growing) family.

This past Sunday, we announced to our families after a looooong cover-up that we are expecting again! My husband Ben and I have one daughter, Reese, who is currently 10 months old, so you do the math. I didn’t anticipate going through these pregnancy shenanigans so shortly after my last (traumatic, 46.5-hour, Pitocin-induced, hell of a) labor, but…here we are, just in time for Round 2.

I’m 12.5 weeks, so we’ve kept mum a lot longer than I’m prone to do about anything. I actually kind of liked savoring the secret, and it gave me time to soul-search and list-make about my priorities for the next six months. I have a full-time desk job (which is so not good for my ass), but I’m also exploring crafty side projects and creative pursuits. Once Reese goes to bed at night, I treat these as a second job. The new pregnancy’s given me a kick in the pants about it. I work best under fire, but I also like being my own boss, so somehow I’ve got to find a balance. I’m in the research/experiment stage of my meanderings, but I’m trying to remember that little steps now equal big changes later.

Anyway—this is how we told our parents about Reese’s little sibling. I found this ahh-dorable “I’m Going to be a Big Sister” tee shirt from http://www.etsy.com/shop/ThingsVerySpecial?ref=seller_info and even got Reese’s name silk-screened beneath the cute lovey little giraffes, and she wore it to visit both sets of grandparents. We waited until they noticed, which took a little while. The anticipation was exciting. I wish I had taken more pictures, but we did send this one around to our friends and extended family, to share the news.

Reese tells Mimi she's gonna be a BIG SIS!

 At nearly 13 weeks, I'm definitely showing, and sooner than I did last time. But I'm trying to have fun with it, instead of freaking out over my changing shape. I'm still working out as much as I can muster, and that helps me feel a little more in control. But DAMN am I hungry. I can't shovel enough green grapes into my mouth! 


(Please excuse my grainy BlackBerry pictures. I have since joined the 21st century and updated to an iPhone.)

11 weeks--my bump, my bump, my bump. My lovely baby bump begins!

12 weeks

lindsey.